A Cursed Defense
by arichan99
Summary: Voldemort has been defeated. Now do the victors of the war face a 7th year of peace, or not? What challenges, dangers, and relationships await back at Hogwarts? Main pairings include Ginny x Harry and Snape X Hermione Focuses mainly on Hermione's viewpoin
1. Chapter 1

A Cursed Defense

Disclaimer: this is fan fiction, so I own none of the characters/elements of the world. This is done solely for the point of my own enjoyment, not to make money or anything.

AN: Set in seventh year Hogwarts, HBP compliant, after Voldemort's defeat. I'm sorry if I was inaccurate or spelled anything wrong, I don't have the books memorized or anything so I might have made some mistakes. As far as I have planned things, this story will contain Harry x Ginny pairing and eventual hinting of Hermione x Snape, although that relationship will be developed more in the sequel I have planned out. Story will focus mainly on Hermione and Ginny's viewpoints.

Prologue: The End

Hermione tugged the brush through her bushy hair one final time before she began to pull her long mane of hair into a ponytail. She carefully adjusted her Muggle shirt, pulling on one end of it so that it hung evenly. She didn't even know why she bothered anymore, just who was she trying to impress anyway? Certainly not Harry or Ron, those two had been like family to her and her short time dating Ron had left her thoroughly convinced that they would remain her adopted brothers for the rest of her life. As for the rest of her boys in her year, if any one of them had the slightest inclination of being interested in her, wouldn't they have shown it already? Yes, none of them would ever be interested. They were intimidated that was it, intimidated by the girl who could hold her own intellectually against the greatest and be bossy enough to coax inanimate objects into motion.

Hermione let out a royal sigh. Now that Voldemort was gone, trivial matters such as these seemed to weigh down on her with an inexplicable importance. How could winning the affection of a few immature young men possibly compare to winning the war against the most horrid dark wizard ever to stalk the earth? Of course it couldn't. Perhaps she was just worrying about this to avoid contemplating the possibility that it wasn't really all over. But it certainly seemed that way, this summer they had defeated Voldemort and now she would be returning to her final year of Hogwarts free of all worries (except NEWTs of course!).

It all seemed too good to be true, but though Hermione had searched constanty for something they had missed in cleaning up after the war, it all seemed completely and unquestionably over. She supposed she, Harry, and Ron, owed the speed and effectiveness with which they had defeated the Dark Lord to the one person they would all rather have owed nothing to at all: Professor Severus Snape. Hermione had less to resent than the other two though; she didn't owe Professor Snape quite as much. In fact, technically, he owed her.

AN: To be continued. Please read and review, be as harsh as you want with critiques as long as you have reasons. I want to know how people respond to my writing as I am currently working on an original story. This was my first fan fic by the way. Hoped you liked it and will read the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1 of my fan fic, enjoy!

Ch 1: The Prince and I

It had all unfolded that summer. Harry had insisted on defeating Voldemort by himself. He told Ron and Hermione that they could either be the sole members of the wizarding world to assist him or they could abandon him and join with the blundering Ministry instead; she had tried to reverse Harry's decision, it had simply been impossible. So given that choice her path was clear. They began to meet secretly several a week to discuss a strategy for destroying the Horcruxes. Hermione found it increasingly stressful that they did it all secretly, and spent all her days pacing in worry, searching for an better solution.

One night, when her parents were away on vacation and there was no one to talk to, her mind was practically reeling with nerves. When generous amounts of Honeyduke's best chocolate failed to calm her tense mind, she resorted to her favorite activity. She pulled out one of her school text books and lost herself in the sea of words before her. So she didn't hear the commotion raging a few streets away or the scrabbling of hands against the side of her house. She didn't hear a thing until something broke her window with a resounding "CRASH".

She leapt from her chair, drawing her wand as she spun, her text book was flung from her desk and fell forgotten on the floor. Before her, lying on her floor, amid streaks of blood and shards of glass lay a death eater, black robes splayed out like broken wings and face hidden behind a gruesome mask. He had been wounded badly, even before his fall through her window, his black robes covered in splotches of an even darker red-brown. She held her hands up to her mouth, stifling the scream that tore through her throat. Quickly recovering she drew her wand on the death eater.

"Accio mask," she said in a squeaky voice, and the mask flew into her waiting hand. She gasped as the profile of Professor Snape, no, ex-Professor Snape, no, the deplorable murderer-of-Dumbledore Snape, that half blood prince who had revealed himself as Voldemort's pet, Hermione corrected herself. She raised her wand, feeling the anger and hate surge with in her.

"Give me one reason, and it better be a good one, that I should'nt kill you here and now," she whispered with a darkness she did not think she was capable of.

"You pose a difficult question Miss Granger," rasped Snape, voice weak with exertion, "Well, aside from the fact that I believe you are totally incapable of murder, and I am speaking of ability as well as willingness, there really is none."

Hermione's felt her jaw slide open with shock at his words, here he was lying half dead in a pool of blood on her floor, totally at her mercy (which as he pointed out she did have too much of) and he was still capable of making such scathing comments. She quickly snapped her jaw shut, and raised her head high, "I woundn't speak that way if I were you. Tell me now what right do you have to live?"

"Were your fragile ears damaged by my insults, or were you always deaf? I clearly stated there was none, I am loosing my patience with you, Miss Granger."

"YOU'RE losing YOUR patience! You're the one who should be begging for mercy as I lose MY patience."

"Overactive as always are we? Fine. You want a reason, I have one. But I think I shall keep it to myself as an intolerant, headstrong Gryffindor like you would never see the reason in it."

She was shocked that he could still go on like that in his state, though she wouldn't let him see it, she wouldn't give him even one ounce of victory. So with her voice growing tighter with every syllable, she replied, "Well lets hear it then, allowing yourself to get killed because you believe this headstrong person before you is too dull to understand your sole justification for staying alive without even testing that assertion is rather headstrong in itself, is it not?"

He grimaced, and she felt elevated by that small victory. Well she wasn't sure if he was grimacing because of her clever retort or because his shoulder had just started to hemorrhage again, but getting a grimace out of Professor Snape was a victory any day.

"Fine," he said, "I'll give you your reason, seeing as you seem to believe that words are the determining factor on a person's right to life. I killed Dumbledore because he told me to. To keep my cover as a double agent, it was necessary to make some rather… inconvenient promises, the breaking of which would have resulted in my death. I told Dumbledore of this and he said that my life was be more important than his in the upcoming struggle, as he was dying anyway. I was not happy about the deed I performed that night, but it was necessary. Unfortunately, no one from the Order would take my word for it, as they all still hold childish grudges against me. The only one who understood was Minerva, who received a letter from Dumbledore the night before his murder, but all the other Order members refused to believe her, saying that the letter was forged."

Hermione bit her lip, Professor McGonagall believed him, so he must be telling the truth. No, that was what he wanted her to think, he mentioned McGonagall because he knew Hermione would trust anything associated with her. Ha! She thought triumphantly, I caught a sly Slytherin in action. He wouldn't get the best of this Gryffindor. Then again, he could still be telling the truth. There was only one way to know really, and that would be to contact McGonagall herself and ask her. She chomped down harder on her lip. What to do? Oh, what to do? Was he trust worthy or not? Her first instinct told her yes, he was a teacher, he must be, but she quickly dismissed this as false reasoning. Her second instinct told her no, he was Slytherin and therefore untrustworthy, but she quickly dismissed this as false suspicion.

She looked down and saw a glint in his eye and a weak smirk twitching in the corner of his mouth. He was mocking her! His life was on the line and he saw it all as one great big joke!

"Just who are you anyway? To laugh in such a way in the face of death? To mock the one who holds the balance of your life in her hands?" she screeched in indignation.

"Excuse me Miss Granger, I'm so very sorry that I have offended your first experience as a figure of authority and power," he responded, voice steeped in irony, "But the thought of you, the bushy-haired school girl who campaigned for house-elf rights killing anyone is a humorous thought indeed. Not to mention that, though you and your little hero friends might find it a hard concept to wrap your naïve minds about, some people simply do not care if they live or die. I have done things so horrid that they are far beyond your comprehension, and I will take the punishment for it, even if it is death or worse. As I have no strong feelings on the matter of my life or death, I hardly find it worth the embarrassment of getting on my hands and knees before one such as you to beg for my life. As it is, I will likely bleed to death before you come to your decision and as I would prefer to be in good humor when I die, I will get all the joy I possibly can in my last moments by mocking you to the utmost degree."

It was then, staring down at his face, made even paler that usual by his loss of blood, that she made her decision. His face was set in a sort of determined way and his eyes, though glinting with their characteristically derisive humor, were resolute and heroic in their own right. He appeared in such contrast to all other dark wizards at the time they faced their deaths. He was not like Wormtail, whimpering with abandoned dignity while prostrating himself widely on the floor shrieking out pleas for mercy. He was not like Voldemort, roaming about the world seeking out unicorn blood to hold onto one last scrap of power. No he was more like Serious Black when Harry had threatened to kill him or when the dementors had come with their kiss, quiet, calm, with a sort of collected determination to face death with pride. He was more like the Potters, throwing his life away without complaint to save those he wanted to protect. He was dying like the good died, valiantly, and even Ron and Harry would find it difficult to find evil in this death.

She raised her wand and opened her mouth. Snape looked at her with mocking disbelief, a sort of "do it if you dare expression". But this expression was replaced with one of shock as she waved her arm and muttered the most powerful healing incantation she knew. That was enough to staunch the blood, he was still weak, but he would not die, not yet. She followed her healing spell, with an Expelliarmus, just in case. His eyes were now wide, all traces mockery gone, replaced by a look of shocked anger. "Stupid, foolish girl," he muttered.

"Well I hardly expected thanks from YOU, but I must admit, you could be a little more appreciative," she retorted

"Stupidity such as yours could easily cost you your life and the life of your friends, sacrificing this world's last chance at eradicating evil, I should hardly be thanking you for such foolishness. Whether in reality I am evil or not, I am certainly not to be trusted- "

But he was cut off by the sounds of voices outside Hermione's broken window. "Did you see him? Which way did he go? The blood trail goes this way."

"Ah, that will be the Aurors, embarrassingly slow at picking up my trail aren't they?" Hermione just gaped at the window, what should she do, they would go to her house and she would be caught harboring one of the most wanted criminals alive (Snape would probably turn her in just for the fun of it). His words cut into her short state of panic, "Come on now you idiot girl! If you're going to save me, at least do it properly! Hide me somewhere and clean up this room, it's a mess!"

"You say it as if it were my fault," she muttered. But she quickly cast Mobilicorpus on Snape and lifted him into her closet, shutting the door and making it invisible from the outside. "When they're done searching the area I'll be contacting Professor McGonagall and you better hope your story checks out," she shouted to where the closet door was a second ago.

"Finally seems like you have gained some sense," he replied. She quickly busied herself disguising the blood stains on the floor, repairing the broken window, and hiding all traces that this was a house that contained a witch, that way they wouldn't suspect she was hiding anything. She then quickly cast a glamour on herself, making herself appear an older and rather irritable Muggle women.

She had just finished her last hurried preparation when a pounding issued from the door, apparently, she noted with humor, Aurors didn't understand doorbells. She rushed down the stairs and opened the door.

AN: please read and review, if you liked it, I always love compliments! And if you didn't I want to know how I could improve, especially on my writing style and dialog. This is only my first fan fic, so I'm open to tips that could improve my writing. Sorry if there were any spelling or grammar errors. I will be updating soon.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: hope you like the story so far, here's the next chapter.

Ch 3: The Benefits of an Incompetent Law Enforcement

The Auror was disguised, rather poorly, with his hat resting on the wrong part of his head, his badge upside-down, and his gun stuck through his holster the wrong way, as a Muggle police man. "Er… Hello 'Mam, there's been sighting of a criminal, a murderer nearby, wearing a dark cloak and a mask, most likely heavily wounded and unable to move well. You seen him?"

"Oh! A murderer! N-n-no. Oh my! No I haven't seen him. A cloak and mask, you say, you mean he's dressed like a kid on Halloween? Why, what is he, a looney bin escapee? Oh dear, how scary," she winced, praying that Snape couldn't hear her rather toneless imitation of the scared old muggle woman. If he could hear, She was sure he wouldn't miss the opportunity to mock her for her poor acting later. But apparently her less than lackluster acting abilities were enough for this auror who seemed rather dull (how had he gotten the grades to be an Auror?!).

"errr yes, very scary indeed 'Mam, but don't worry we're hot on his trail. You wouldn't mind me looking through your home though, would you? He's a rather trickey one, he is, and he might have snuck in."

"Yes, yes, I suppose you can check, but I don't think he's here. Just don't touch anything, mind you."

"Yes of course Mam, just a precaution, that's all," he said hurriedly. Hermione smiled internally at her success at playing the irritable woman (she had Professor McGonagall to thank for inspiration.)

The Auror walked around her house quickly, throwing bewildered looks at all the Muggle appliances. He walked into her room. Her heart skipped a beat. She searched the room quickly for any signs of a problem and realized with horror that the book she had been reading before Snape's arrival, _Standard Book of Spells Grade 6_, was lying face down on the floor. Her hand inched towards where her wand was concealed in her sleeve. If the Auror showed any sign of seeing the book, she would stupefy him. The Auror's eyes made their way slowly over the book. Hermione held her breath. She let it all out in one large sigh of relief when his eyes continued their roving journey around her room. He really was dull, he must be so accustomed to such books that he didn't even realize that they were out of place in a Muggle household.

The Auror left, as Hermione silently thanked God that the particular Auror who was assigned to check her house had been so dull. She removed the spells that cloaked her room, restoring it to its previous state. She slid open her newly revealed closet door only to find Professor Snape slumped down where she had left him, unconscious. She cast a few more spells to close up his remaining wounds and clean his robes. She then transported Snape to the guest bedroom where she dropped him down onto the bed. Leaving a few of her father's old shirts and pants for him to wear when he awoke, she shut the door and left him in the room.

She then set to work scrubbing at the blood stains on her floor. After a few hours of hard work and a few bottles of Mrs. Skower's all purpose mess remover, she slumped down onto her own bed and fell asleep without even pausing to take off her own clothes.

AN: hope you liked it. Please read + review.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch 3: The Destruction of Evil

The morning light landed on her face, gradually pulling her from sleep. She sat up slowly, wondering why her eyes were so crusty and why she felt so groggy, she only ever got like this when she was seriously sleep deprived. Then she remembered: the reading, the shattered window, Snape lying collapsed on her floor, the blood, the dull Auror. Snape was now lying in the guest bed just one room away. Her hand instinctively reached out for her wand, to make sure it was still there. To her relief, she found not only her own wand but Snape's as well, lying untouched on her nightstand.

With a groan she rolled out of bed and walked to the next room. Snape was still sleeping on the guest bed, his chest rising and falling evenly. Hermione left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. She went to take shower. The hot water washed away some of the stiffness in her limbs and cleared most of the groggy feeling from her head. She would make breakfast and floo Professor McGonagall right after that. If Snape had been lying, it would not do to have a dangerous murderer asleep in her guest bedroom.

She walked down her stairs to the kitchen and began to make a few eggs. As she watched the eggs sizzle, she contemplated the events of the night before. She didn't particularly believe in fate, but it was certainly lucky for Snape that he had been caught on her street and had chosen her house to escape to, rather than the house of some unfortunate Muggle. If this was fate's doing, she certainly hoped that fate was on their side and that Snape's arrival was gift rather than a curse. If he was innocent, this could be just the boost they needed to end the war. Snape could feed her information and she could direct Ron and Harry so that they could defeat Voldemort. Of course she would have to be discreet; the boys would certainly want to know where she was getting her information from and if she told them her source, they would never trust a word she said again.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the soft steps on the stairs behind her. A few seconds later she felt something brush against her still damp hair.

"Day dreaming are we? Not a very smart thing to do when a murderer lies sleeping only one story above you," said a silky voice issuing from a place only a few inches away from her ear.

She gave a small squeak and leapt a few inches off her chair. When she had recovered from the shock enough to speak she said, "D-don't do that Professor! You nearly scared me to death!"

"Oh well then, would you have preferred it if I had just swooped down on you and killed you before you knew what was happening," he replied, still standing behind her, "since you seem so opposed to surprises I suppose you would have liked that approach, you would have been dead before realized anything was happening."

"Well Professor, would you like to sit down," she said, curtly changing the subject, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her get flustered over her latest loss in their verbal battles, "I will make you breakfast if you want, you can have eggs, cereal, or toast"

"Toast would be fine," he replied. Hermione busied herself making toast, trying to keep her eyes from straying towards her former Professor. He was still paler than usual, but his skin was closer to its normal sallow shade. His hair was even greasier than usual and his eyes were lined with dark shadows. The toast popped out of the toaster and she carried it over to him on a plate.

"Later, if you would like," she said, "You could use my shower." She hoped he wasn't offended by her suggestion, but it certainly looked like he could use one exceptionally long shower.

"That would be agreeable. I shall do so after I finish eating my toast," he answered.

They continued breakfast in silence. Hermione let out an internal sigh of relief that he did not seem to be up to any more verbal sparring matches, as she would have surely lost all of them, no matter how tired he was. After he finished breakfast he rose and left her alone at the kitchen table. She waited until the sounds of her shower began upstairs before going over to the fireplace. It was summer and she was not keen on lighting a fire, but she had to floo Professor McGonagall. After lighting a fire, she reached over to the jar of floo powder that the Weaslys had given her so she could stay in contact with them and Harry over the summer.

She let a pinch of it fall into the fire. She stuck her head in the fire and contact Professor McGonagall. A few minutes later McGonagall was in her living room and Hermione recounted the events of the previous night. McGonagall confirmed that Snape had indeed been telling the truth just as Snape came down from his shower, wearing the Muggle clothes that Hermione had left out for him. He looked strange without his usual billowing cloak; the Muggle shirt and pants hugged his form more tightly than his usual robes, revealing a lithe but well muscled form.

Hermione shook her head, trying to dispel the strange thoughts her mind had wandered to. Why did she care what her former Potions Master looked like under his billowing robes? Such thoughts were clearly unnecessary and uncalled for. Hermione turned to her former Professor and said, "Professor McGonagall just confirmed your story, guess I wasn't so foolish in trusting you. Was I?"

"You got lucky this time Miss Granger. But you are still a foolishly trusting girl with a one dimensional vision that limits you to only seeing the good in people."

Snape's shower seemed to wash away any fatigue that had dulled his caustic wit, thought Hermione with a grimace. "So sorry for saving your life Professor," she replied icily, "but it seems, regardless of whether it was the smartest move, that I have indeed saved you. And I believe that places you in a wizard debt to me?"

She smiled at the growing horror on his face. She knew how much he hated to be in debt, especially to those he disliked, such as James Potter and now Hermione Granger. "But don't fret Professor," she continued, "you can pay it back easily enough. All you have to do is continue to spy in support of our side. You can tell be what the Dark Lord's plans are and we can work out a strategy so that Harry, Ron, and I can attack Horcruxes when he is occupied elsewhere. So long as you spy for me and do not betray us, I shall consider your debt repaid."

Snape had recovered his expressionless face by this time. "Yes, I will do that for you Miss Granger. It was what I had planned to do initially before those Order dunderheads refused to believe that I was essentially still on their side despite my alleged betrayal."

And so Snape and Hermione set up secret meeting times and became the most unlikely and most valuable group of warriors the side of good possessed in their fight against evil. Hermione suggested the times that she knew the Dark Lord would be occupied to Harry and Ron for the nights they would seek out the Horcruxes. As she had already been named chief strategist by the boys, they followed her commands and suggestions without complaint. And so one by one the infernal bulwarks of darkness fell and the end drew near. Soon it was all over the last Horcrux in lay in ruins and Harry cast his first unforgivable curse to destroy Voldemort.

That night Voldemort died meteor's fell from space, leaving bright remnants of themselves to illuminate the midnight sky and the tears of joy that streaked down the faces of millions who celebrated the defeat of evil. Harry and Ron had celebrated, totally unaware that somewhere in their world lay a man who had risked everything for the cause of good, and succeeded. Hermione knew better, and as she watched the last meteor fall and fade into oblivion, she wondered if he saw it too. She wondered what he felt when he saw the last glowing rock reach the end of its wild and burning path, just as they had reached the end of their battle.

AN: Hope you liked it. Please read and review. I'll post the next chapter soon.


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